


Chippewa Lake Park

by thnksfrthwilliam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amusement Parks, Case Fic, Community: sabriel_mini, Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thnksfrthwilliam/pseuds/thnksfrthwilliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On their way through town in Ohio, the Winchesters and their angels catch a case at an abandoned amusement park. Sam and Gabriel's constant bickering comes to a head and finally to something more than the simple, no-strings-attached hate-sex that they're used to. Even a melodramatic ghost in a Fun House can't stop the ball that's already started rolling. Maybe there's hope after all, even for a hunter with his fair share of fuck-ups and an archangel with so many more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chippewa Lake Park

The Winchesters stopped at a gas station on their way through Ohio, heading up to Maine from Missouri after catching wind of a few demon-esque occurrences “up in the boonies” as Dean so nicely put it. Dean pumped gas and sent Sam in to get some hardly consumable coffee and something to eat. The angels were supposed to stay in the car, but of course they didn’t listen (or mostly, Gabriel didn’t listen). Gabe was already inside the small convenience store flipping through the softcore skin mags in the back behind the rack of potato chips when Sam’s entrance rang the bell above the door. 

“Hey, Sammy, get a load of this,” he called out, holding up the magazine he was perusing and keeping it open to a page with a busty brunette washing a classic car. “I think you’d look good like this – I could bend you over the hood and fuck you until you screamed my name.”

Sam rolled his eyes and ignored him, grateful that the only other soul in the store was the cashier (though he couldn’t help that his cheeks flushed pink even with the lack of company). He picked up a few premade sandwiches, two cups of coffee made hours ago, and the local paper, further ignoring Gabriel’s attempts at getting his attention. He flipped the newspaper open as the acne-ridden teenage cashier rang him up with measured jabs of register buttons. He skimmed an article about a local defunct amusement park that had been slated to be torn down the previous month, but all work on the project had been abandoned due to legal issues. He didn’t notice Gabriel plop the porno mag and a dozen bags of Skittles on the counter alongside his own purchases, which the cashier dutifully rang up and bagged along with Sam’s sandwiches as if men like them were a normal occurrence at his register. Gabriel took Sam’s wallet out of his pocket with a discreet snap and paid, then grabbed the plastic bag and nudged Sam towards the door. 

“You still alive in there, kiddo?” he asked after snapping the wallet back into Sam’s pocket. 

“Huh? Sorry, just reading an article. Sounds like it might be something worth checking out. Could be a hunt,” Sam replied, picking up the Styrofoam cups of coffee and following Gabe out. 

Dean was nowhere to be seen when they got back to the Impala ( _He went to “take a piss”_ Castiel helpfully provided them) so Gabriel hauled himself up onto the hood of the car, pulling out his new magazine. 

“Did you steal that?” Sam asked with a slight frown, not recalling seeing Gabe sneak anything out of the store. 

“I’m hurt that you think I would have such contempt for the law,” Gabriel faux-pouted. “I bought it. With your money.” 

“Asshole,” Sam responded, trying to figure out how that happened without him noticing and chalking it up to angel mojo. He figured it was mostly dirty money anyways, so he didn’t bother doing anything about it past smacking the back of Gabe’s head. 

Gabriel winced and grumbled, then shrugged and flipped open his porn. To see the full picture he turned it sideways at the centerfold. He wolf-whistled and winked up at Sam. 

“You sure you don’t want to play around like this, Sam? Can guarantee you’d have mile-long legs and a rack to die for,” Gabriel said while wiggling his eyebrows. 

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re missing out.” 

“Get off my fucking car you dick,” Dean yelled from across the parking lot. “Why do we even keep you around?” 

“Your brother likes this one thing I can do with my tongue – actually, more like a dozen things,” Gabriel snickered and hopped off the hood, but not before rubbing his ass lasciviously against Dean’s precious car. 

Sam grabbed Gabe by the jacket and pushed him in to the backseat with Cas, sliding in shotgun. He wished, sometimes, that Gabriel took their relationship more seriously (that he took _anything_ more seriously, honestly). He had considered mentioning it to the archangel a few times before, but he figured it would just result in getting laughed at and Gabriel disappearing for a while or longer. As much as he’d prefer something with more depth than a series of (really good) fucks, he wasn’t about to lose Gabe’s company entirely just for the sake of a more emotional bond. With Gabriel there he could at least pretend that maybe the feeling was mutual (and stave off the loneliness that came from a life on the road with a brother who had his own angel to occupy him). He pushed his thoughts down before they had a chance to really bother him though – he had more important things to deal with. 

“Oh Sammy, I love when you get all rough with me,” Gabriel cooed, leaning forward to kiss Sam’s cheek from the backseat. 

Sam scowled, opening up the newspaper again. He folded it over so the article he was reading earlier was on top and shoved it into Dean’s hands. 

“So get this.” 

“What, you want to go ride some roller coasters, Sammy? Aren’t you a little tall?” Dean said with a smirk. 

“Could you not be a jerk for five minutes – I bought you coffee and food, you can at least keep your mouth shut for a couple seconds,” Sam sighed, drinking some of his coffee then wrinkling his nose at the foul aftertaste. “It’s a case, I think.”

“Ya think you’d be used to me by now,” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes and scanning the article. “You sure this is something up our alley? Seems pretty human to me.” 

“I just think we should check it out. What’s one more day in Ohio – you don’t even want to go to Maine,” Sam smirked. 

Dean paused then nodded begrudgingly. “As much as it pains me to admit it, I guess you’re right, it wouldn’t kill us to look. Unless it does, but dying before we get to Asscrack of Nowhere, Forestland USA sounds fine to me,” Dean finished, pushing the paper back towards Sam and starting the Impala.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

They found a motel a few miles from where the abandoned park was supposed to be and stopped there for the night. Dean and Cas got their own room and Sam and Gabe took one a few doors down (because no one wants to be in the same room as their brother when they get boned by an angel). After a few minutes to get settled they congregated in Sam and Gabe’s room to look in to the case. Dean got some greasy Chinese food from a restaurant on the corner after trying the gas station sandwiches and deeming them inedible. He handed Sam a box of lo mein and a plastic fork with a shrug as if to say _it can’t be worse_. They ate quietly, the only noises being the crinkle of Gabe’s Skittles wrapper and the tap of keys on Sam’s laptop. 

"Where's this case again?" Dean asked to break the silence, poking at the food in the white cardboard container. 

Gabe knelt behind Sam on the terrible motel mattress, leaning against his back to read the computer screen over his shoulder. He 'accidentally' dropped every fourth Skittle down Sam's shirt (always orange, Sam's least favorite flavor). Sam reached back to swat the angel away, but Gabriel just laughed and pinched him. With an undignified squeak followed by a sigh, Sam looked back down at the tab open on his screen. 

"Chippewa Lake-" 

"Like in _The Addams Family Values_?" Dean and Gabe said at the same time, cutting Sam off. 

Sam glared at them. "And you call me a dork."

"Definitely still a dork," Gabe said as Dean nodded in agreement. 

"I think I liked it better when you hated each other.” 

“We came together for a mutual cause. Annoying the shit out of you,” Gabriel said matter-of-factly. 

Sam tried to ignore them; another Skittle slid past the collar of his shirt. 

“It’s a place called Chippewa Lake Park – opened in 1878, closed in 1978.” 

“That’s a shitty 100th birthday present,” Dean interjected.

Sam ignored him (it was a skill every little brother learned quickly, especially when they had brothers like Dean) and kept reading the page he had open. 

“Says here it was just left in the woods for about 30 years to rot. Mentions the sale of the land I read about in the paper earlier – sold a few years ago but the redevelopment ended this year due to a lawsuit that never actually made it to court. The land was recently foreclosed on. Just sounds a little fishy that someone would buy so much land for over 3 million dollars and partially start work on it only to just give up because of a lawsuit that sounds flimsy at best. Figured it’s worth a day or two of our time just to make sure there’s nothing supernatural scaring the developers away.” 

Gabe reached around him and scrolled down the page, reading quickly. He grinned and pointed at a paragraph near the end. 

“I think we found our first suspect. ‘When the park shut down, former owner Parker Beach requested that his family bury him there when he died. The site where Beach's body is buried in the park is unknown’. That sounds very Winchester-brand spooky. All you need is a dog named Scooby to make this into a full-blown children’s show,” Gabriel said, still draped over Sam’s back.

“For that to work you’d need to tone it down. In fact, maybe you just shouldn’t talk at all. Nothing that comes out of that mouth is family friendly,” Sam responded, shoving him off successfully.

“The things that come in my mouth aren’t PG either, Sunshine,” Gabriel said, flopping back onto the mattress and miming a blowjob. 

Sam stabbed him in the back of the hand with his plastic fork before getting up to throw away his garbage.

“Next word out of your mouth has you sleeping in the parking lot tonight.”

Dean rolled his eyes and got up, dragging Cas with him.

“I don’t want to be here when this lover’s quarrel turns into a fight to the death. See you two _alive_ in the morning,” Dean said as he left the room, leading Cas back to their lodgings for the night.

 “You didn’t have to stab me,” Gabriel grumbled, rubbing his hand. 

“It was a plastic fork and you’re an archangel. Figured it wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Not physically. Just my feelings,” Gabriel sing-songed, kicking his boots off in Sam’s general direction. 

“If we had a couch I’d make you sleep on it,” Sam responded, dodging the boots. 

“Romantic as ever, Winchester. Should I expect roses next week?” 

“If I don’t kill you before then.” 

Sam stripped down to his blue plaid boxers and a plain white t-shirt, settling into bed with a still fully dressed Gabriel.

“If you’re not going to sleep, you need to leave,” Sam mumbled, eyes already shut.

Gabe snapped his jeans and flannel shirt away and flopped back on the bed as hard as he could manage just to make the mattress squeak, taking up as much space as his small frame could. Sam fell asleep before he could protest the annoyance. Looking Sam over, Gabriel curled closer to the taller man, resting his head on his chest. When Sam awoke the next morning he wouldn’t know that an archangel had been cuddling with him, Gabriel would make sure of it. He had a reputation as an insufferable asshole to maintain after all. 

Sam slept soundly for most of the night, but sometime around three in the morning Sam began to fidget like he was trying to get away from something. He woke in a cold sweat; Gabriel was comfortably occupying his own spot on the bed by the time Sam was conscious, no indication that he had just had his face nuzzled into the crook of Sam’s neck moments ago. He opened one eye, peeking up at Sam. 

“You okay, kiddo?” 

“’m fine – just – had a shitty dream,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“You wanna talk about it, maybe?” the angel offered with a shrug, trying not to sound too concerned. 

Sam shook his head. Nodding, Gabriel patted Sam’s arm awkwardly. Sam settled back down, shutting his eyes to try to clear his mind. 

“Sleep, Sammykins. We have a big day ahead of us – all the fun of an amusement park with the added thrills of spooky monsters that go bump in the night. You’d be best to face that shit storm after a full night’s rest,” Gabriel murmured, smirking a little.

Sam was already asleep again; Gabriel leaned over and kissed Sam’s forehead. 

“Rest, kiddo,” he whispered, curling close to Sam again. “You’ve got yourself a guardian archangel, you don’t need to worry,” he added with a sad smirk, wondering when exactly he let himself get sucked so far down the rabbit hole of something _more_ than begrudging tolerance (and deep appreciation for the size of his dick) for Sam Winchester.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

They spent the morning organizing in preparation for their urban exploration. They didn’t know exactly what they’d be facing (or if they’d run in to anything at all), but rather than suffer death-by-wendigo, they prepared themselves to deal with most anything and then some. Gabriel tried to convince them that it was unnecessary because it was _clearly_ the ghost of Parker Beach, but Sam and Dean got everything ready anyways because they were human and far more likely to actually get killed (Gabriel made fun of them for being such scaredy cats). It took them until nearly sunset to finish everything, but it was better that way – not so easy to sneak around somewhere abandoned that likely had some security guards patrolling the land while it was still light out. 

“You’re taking your angel to the park, Cas and I can handle research,” Dean said when Sam picked up his laptop to head to the library.

“What?” 

Dean shrugged defensively. “What, I’m not allowed to take research duty for once? We have equal opportunity bruising here. We’ll drop you off there on our way to hit the books,” he said, then paused. “Just don’t kill each other.” 

“Fine. We’ll take the park and you two take the research. Just don’t get arrested for public indecency,” Sam finished with a smirk, not fooled by Dean’s excuses. 

Dean turned away so Sam wouldn’t see the flush of his cheeks. 

“Bitch. Let’s just get going before _I_ kill _you_.” 

Sam chuckled with a shit-eating little brother grin, following Dean out to the Impala; he dropped Sam and Gabe off near the edge of the woods, about a half mile from the actual entrance to the park. They walked quietly beside each other for the first few minutes, Sam flicking his flashlight on once they were out of view of the main road. Sam smiled a little, enjoying the lack of sound coming from Gabriel’s mouth. Of course, the peace could only last for so long.

Gabe plucked Sam's flashlight out of his hands once they were in view of the gates, running ahead. He bolted past the worn sign proclaiming "Chippewa Lake Park" in white lettering emblazoned on the shape of a grey arrowhead to the broken down turnstiles. He vaulted himself over the purple bars, rusted in place due to years of exposure to the elements. Sam grumbled and shook his head. He went around the entrance gates instead, walking over a downed and rusted fence to join the other man. 

"Do you even need a flashlight to see in the dark?" Sam whispered, annoyance clear in his tone. 

Gabriel only grinned, not giving it back to Sam, and continued through the trees towards the center of the amusement park. The only sounds were the underbrush crunching under their boots and the water lapping at the shore of the lake somewhere in the distance. There were no lights visible in the night - civilization wasn’t close enough to be seen through the dense trees surrounding the park. 

Sam shivered as they walked through the woods. He looked up at the rusted old Ferris Wheel with a tree growing up through the center of it and wondered why B&E and trespassing had to be his life (he was going to go to law school with a perfect girl for fucks sake, how he ended up with shotguns instead of books and an asshole archangel instead of Jessica he didn’t know). 

"If this ends up being a fucking ghost clown, you can take care of it on your own, Gabe." 

The angel laughed, clapping Sam on the back hard enough to bruise. Sam winced, swatting him away. 

"Don't be such a little girl, Winchester. Besides, it's probably just the ghosts of some people who died on the rides. Amusement parks are death traps. I would know, I had a hand in inventing them," he said with an eyebrow wiggle, performing an elaborate hand gesture complete with sound effects that Sam took to be an interpretation of someone falling out of a roller coaster and plunging to their death.

"Seriously?" 

" _Hello,_ Trickster. It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt - then it's fucking hilarious." 

Sam rolled his eyes. "Why do I spend time with you again?"

"I give amazing head." 

Sam punched his shoulder as hard as he could, knowing the angel would hardly feel it but hoping it might provide some shallow satisfaction nonetheless; Gabe laughed when Sam pulled his hand back with a pained noise. 

"Goddamned angels with no gag reflex," he mumbled as he cradled his injured hand. 

Gabe clicked his tongue and gave Sam a _look_ , taking his hand and bringing it up to his lips. He kissed Sam’s bruised knuckles. Sam nearly protested the affection until he realized that his fingers didn't hurt anymore. He frowned a little and let his hand fall to his side again, arms going slack and shoulders relaxing for a second. 

"...thanks." 

Gabriel shrugged like it was nothing, walking off ahead of him towards the abandoned midway. Sam sighed and followed the angel, taking in the sights around him – a dilapidated burger stand fallen in on itself after years of no upkeep coupled with the elements, a row of rotted out Skee ball lanes with all the balls missing and the charred skeleton of a large building off to the side beyond everything else. He recalled from his reading, as he looked over the last structure, that the large ballroom on the property had burned down rather recently due to unknown causes. It was all unsettling, more so than any abandoned house or graveyard he’d ever been in. He could almost hear the laughter of children and the steady groaning noises of wood and metal around him – everything was just past the realm of reality, like something you see out of the corner of your eye when you’re sure you’re alone. _There_ but not. He wanted to leave, the unease settling in his stomach like a rock. But they had a job to do and the Winchesters (almost) always finished the job.           

A flash of grey in the brush to their right had Sam whipping out his gun and taking aim; the angel held up his hand and went to investigate, doubling over with laughter so loud it made Sam flinch. He lifted up a large grey cat and showed it to Sam; it mewed passively and Sam put his gun down, cheeks flushing. 

"Not-so-little Sammy Winchester afraid of a pussy?" 

Sam grumbled again as Gabe put the cat back on the ground, sending it on its way again. 

"Asshole." 

"Giant." 

Sam almost shot him full of rock salt; he even pointed his gun at Gabe’s back when the shorter man started off through the woods again. He took a deep breath and lowered it to his side again, figuring he should keep as quiet as possible if there really was a ghost or two around (but mostly he could really do without listening to Gabe whining for the rest of the night about being shot). 

They continued walking down the midway, coming up to the largest ride on the property – the old wooden roller coaster. Gabriel’s grin was almost manic once the coaster came in to full view through the trees. Sam knew there’d be no stopping him. Gabriel walked closer to the structure, despite Sam’s protests that they had better things to do. 

“Something better than this? Icing a spirit isn’t better than this, kiddo. Hell, even _sex_ isn’t better than this.”

Sam groaned as Gabe climbed up the crisscrossing wood beams and swung himself up onto the covered entrance to the rollercoaster. The angel walked out onto the rotting wooden tracks with his arms spread for balance. Sam started to walk away, but looked up when he heard the old wood creaking.

"Gabe, stop screwing around. We're here for a case, not to satisfy your urban exploration fetish,” he chastised. “Besides, that looks like it's gonna fall down any minute now. You're gonna get yourself killed." 

"Oh ye of little faith, Sammy. Don't be such a pussy," Gabe chuckled, continuing along the tracks (even adding a few hops, skips, and jumps to rub Sam’s nerves raw). 

“At least give me the flashlight back, asshole.”

Gabriel very maturely stuck out his tongue, tossing it down to him.

“Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, princess,” Gabe called out when Sam bent to pick it up. “Where would I ever find an ass as sweet as yours to replace you with?” 

Sam scowled and turned away again, going to look at one of the collapsed souvenir stands on the property that they had walked by on their way in, hoping to find something of interest there. He lost sight of Gabriel as he walked, listening to the crunch of his boots in the years-worth of fallen leaves and twigs to take his mind off of the angel. He heard Gabriel start whistling a familiar tune (a song by Asia that Sam would never speak the name of), but soon he was far enough away for it to be lost in the breeze. Sam walked back up the midway, spending a few minutes trying to find the specific pile of debris he was looking for. He finally located the souvenir stand, directing the beam of his flashlight at it. Sighing, he knelt down to start looking. He pushed planks of rotting wood out of the way as he searched, not sure what exactly he was looking for in the wreckage. Seeing a patch of dingy pink, he pulled away a few more pieces of wood in hopes of discovering something worthwhile, only to find a moldy teddy bear – a forgotten prize from simpler times past. He only found more of the same as he kept searching, giving up after a few dozen disgusting stuffed animals and rusted metal toys. 

Sam stood and brushed his hands off on his jeans, wrinkling his nose. He took a breath, thinking about where else to look for some sort of clue. There was a loud crack from back where Gabriel was climbing around on the coaster tracks. Sam turned tail and ran back, crashing through the undergrowth in his rush and nearly leaving his flashlight in the pile of misfit toys (he would never admit the way his heart felt like it stopped when the noise of wood cracking echoed through the forest). 

"Gabe!" 

Gabriel looked down at him, grinning; the portion of track he had been standing on had crashed to the ground, but he was still hovering in the air. 

"Wings. Pretty wonderful thing to have, kiddo." 

Sam wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch or kiss the grin off Gabe’s face. He settled for rolling his eyes and telling Gabe to come down (which the angel did, just gracefully enough to have Sam leaning towards punching).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

They continued to trudge through the underbrush, Gabe in front; every branch the angel pushed out of his way ended up snapped back in Sam's face. 

"Gabriel!" 

"Shhh - you don't want to wake the ghost clowns, kiddo." 

Sam lowered his voice immediately (and Gabriel’s fucking _giggle_ was louder than Sam’s words had been), eyes going wide for a split second at the thought of ghost clowns. 

"Stop being such a fucking jerk," he grumbled as he followed Gabe through the trees, berating himself for letting the angel get to him. 

Gabe grinned, leading Sam towards a building with an askew row of primary colored letters on the wall far above their heads: FUN HOUSE.

"One of the few buildings still standing - figure there might be something interesting in here," Gabriel answered when Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

Sam nodded – he couldn’t argue with that logic – and followed the angel to the entrance. Gabe went first again, easily slipping through the sagging doorframe into the zig-zagging halls; Sam had to duck to fit, but he entered after Gabriel just the same. All of the mirrors were still inside, some smashed to pieces and scattered on the ground, some just cracked, but most still completely intact. It made Sam just as uncomfortable as everything else in the defunct park. However, Gabriel was giddy. The angel walked up to one of the mirrors, laughing when he saw his stretched reflection. 

"Hey, look! I'm taller than you, Samsquatch," he called out, waving Sam over to see for himself. 

Sam cringed at the way Gabe's laughter and voice echoed in the mirrored halls. He jumped when the sound of glass shattering rang from somewhere else in the building. Hysterical laughter followed, mixing with the tinkling of glass in a way that made Sam's skin crawl. 

"Gabriel - I swear to God, this isn't funny…" Sam said, looking at the angel with genuine fear in his eyes, the thought of clowns still ringing in his head. "If your idea of a joke is putting some sort of evil clown in here with us, then I'm done. I don't care how good the sex is, I'm done with you." 

Gabe laughed again. "You're such a dork, Sammy; a giant who’s scared of clowns. How old are you, five? And for the record, whatever that just was, it wasn't me - scouts honor and all that jazz," he said, holding up three fingers in what Sam could only assume was a literal Scout’s Honor, before crooking them and twisting his wrist, making the whole thing dirty. 

A booming voice calling out _What are you doing in my Fun House?_ followed by the sound of another mirror shattering stopped any further argument. Sam grabbed Gabe's hand and dragged him out of the Fun House. Gabe yanked his hand from Sam's grip as soon as they were outside again. 

"Jesus Christ, kiddo. Think you could calm the fuck down?” he asked, rubbing his fingers to get the blood flowing to them again. “Clowns really bother you that much, huh?" 

Pushing his hair out of his face, Sam gulped and looked away so Gabriel wouldn't see how terrified he really was. The shorter man frowned, looking back at the now silent Fun House, then at Sam again. 

"Sam..." Gabe started, then paused, clenching and unclenching his fists as he tried to decide what to say. "I'm - I'm sorry for teasing you about that, okay?” he struggled through the apology, but managed to get it out. ”But all of that in there really wasn't me. I think we just had a little encounter with our spirit friend, Parker Beach. Looks like we really do have ourselves a bona fide Winchester Case." 

Sam nodded, looking down at the gun in his hand. He had gotten so spooked he had forgotten he even had it with him. He sighed. 

“Let’s just call Dean to pick us up.” 

Gabriel didn’t even try to argue as Sam dug his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and called his brother. It took Dean four calls to actually pick up and when he finally did he was out of breath. 

“Yeah?” he huffed into the phone, then covered the receiver to mutter something else to someone in the background. 

“Come pick us up – we’ve done all we can for tonight. We should regroup and come back tomorrow after we’ve looked into things more.” 

“Gimme a few minutes. Meet me back where I dropped you off.” 

“See you then,” Sam replied and hung up the phone, looking to Gabriel. “C’mon, we’ve got a ways to walk.” 

Gabe nodded, remaining blissfully silent for most of the walk back up the dirt road. When he did finally say something, it was almost too quiet for Sam to hear. 

“Huh?” 

“I said I’m sorry, kiddo.” 

“Not like any of this is your fault,” Sam shrugged half-heartedly, flashlight beam bobbing with his movement. 

The angel nodded, shutting his mouth again until they made it back to the spot where Dean had let them out. As a pair of familiar headlights made their way down the long road to them, Gabriel stood on his tiptoes and kissed Sam’s cheek. It wasn’t much, but it was so surprising and so sweet that it shocked a smile out of Sam. Gabe was back in his own personal space before Dean stopped in front of them, but Sam’s smile remained.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The very best thing about this particular case, in Sam’s opinion, was that they knew there was a body somewhere, but had no idea exactly where that was (though he thanked his lucky stars that their suspect hadn’t been cremated – those were the worst cases). An unmarked grave somewhere on the acres of land that used to be Chippewa Lake Park would be a “doozy to find” (Dean’s very helpful input). They couldn’t just go around digging six foot deep holes all over the property in hopes of finding the bones of Parker Beach, as Gabriel had so generously suggested on the drive back to the motel that night (before poofing himself somewhere else, probably halfway across the globe if the past was any indication). The land was still privately owned and someone was bound to notice a group of guys digging graves everywhere if it took them longer than one night to find the remains. They needed a more efficient plan. So Sam sat himself down with his laptop, trying to find any remaining family. 

“You want something to eat, Sammy?” Dean asked, already halfway out the door with Cas in tow. 

“Sure. Maybe you could get me-“ Sam started. 

“Burger it is!” Dean interjected, slamming the motel door behind himself and Cas.

Sam sighed and shook his head. He started looking up the Beach Family of Ohio in hopes of discovering some child or grandchild that might know the whereabouts of Parker’s body. He always felt a little bad when he stopped to consider the thought of being asked about your loved one’s death and remains by a couple of feds in cheap suits, so he simply didn’t stop to consider it anymore. Gabriel was blessedly absent while Sam was researching – no sticky candy on his skin or attempted handjobs while he was reading about some old dead guy. It was almost peaceful, if he didn’t listen too hard to the sounds around him in the other rooms; thankfully he didn’t, because years of living in motel rooms with walls as thin as his patience on a bad day made him particularly adept at blocking out the ambient noises of the other seedy residents. 

Without the distractions of a certain archangel Sam found a living relative of Parker Beach before Dean even got back with the burgers (though after more than an hour, Sam was sure Dean and Cas were doing more than just getting dinner). His daughter, Carla Airth, still lived in town. She had married years ago, but she still lived in her family’s old home right down the street from the park land. 

Sam didn’t feel like going to talk to Carla at such a late hour without any backup, so he ended up waiting for Dean and Cas to return. 

“Hey Cas, do you know where Gabriel is?” Sam asked when he let them in to his motel room, not mentioning how long they’d been gone or how thoroughly debauched the angel looked. 

“I have not heard from him yet today. I can try to contact him, if you’d like,” Cas offered, handing Sam a bag of food. 

“No – no, it’s fine. It’s actually been sorta quiet without him here. He’ll show up eventually to annoy the shit out of us, I’m sure of it,” Sam said with a forced smile. 

Cas nodded; Dean smiled at Sam.

“Enjoy your food, Sammy. Did you find anything about our ghost?” 

Sam pulled the burger out, sighing and unwrapping it. He grabbed his laptop with his free hand and gave it to Dean. 

“One living relative nearby. His daughter, Carla – she’s only a few minutes away from here. I don’t know if she’ll be willing to help us with our intention of digging up her father’s grave, but hey, that’s never stopped us from asking before,” Sam said, taking a bite of his burger. 

“So we’ll go see Carla tomorrow then – she might be more willing to talk to us if it’s not the dead of night.” 

Sam nodded, picking at his food. “Surprisingly enough, that’s the case with most people. I’ll see you two in the morning then.”

Dean smirked and put Sam’s laptop down on the table. He led Cas back to their room, leaving Sam alone with his barely touched burger. Sam tossed it away in the garbage as soon as Dean closed the door behind him. He settled on the bed with a book, nicked from a library a few states back (only after making sure they had multiple copies). Without Gabriel around he could get to reading his novel in peace. He fell asleep with it open facedown on his chest before he had even finished a chapter. 

He was woken up before dawn by a crash and a wolf whistle. Without having to open his eyes he knew Gabriel was back. 

“Where have you been all night?” Sam asked, not moving from his comfortable position.

“Oh, y’know. At an orgy. An old friend of mine, Abarta – well, we just call him Bart now – set it up. Very classy shindig, I might add,” Gabriel said, grinning. 

“Oh,” Sam said. 

And that was all he said for a few minutes, as he listened to Gabriel rummage around in his bag and finally felt the angel jump onto the bed beside him. Sam considered the feeling in the pit of his stomach; it felt too close to jealousy for his own comfort. He pushed it down with silent reminders that they weren’t exclusive, or even in any sort of committed relationship. As far as they had discussed it (which, unsurprisingly, wasn’t extensively), it was just sex.

“Why the long face, Sammy?” Gabriel asked, pulling at Sam’s cheeks in an attempt to get him to smile. 

Sam swatted his hands away, though it didn’t stop the angel. 

“My dad didn’t hug me enough,” Sam deadpanned, opening his eyes to glare at the angel. “Stop touching my face.”

Gabriel pouted, but pulled his hands back. 

“Seriously, kiddo – why are you acting like you have a stick in your ass?” he questioned, a grin slowly forming on his face. “Unless it’s because you _want_ a certain stick in your ass. Because that can be arranged.” 

“Don’t.” 

Gabriel’s grin slid down into a more serious expression. 

“What’s wrong? Did you want to come to the orgy? I could ask Bart if he’s planning any more.” 

Sam grumbled, closing his book and putting it on the nightstand. He got up from bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower, but mostly just to get away from Gabriel’s bombardment; it was difficult to answer questions when he wasn’t sure about any of it himself. Gabriel frowned, but stayed put on the bed and waited for Sam. As much of an annoyance as he could be, he did, much to everyone’s shock, know when to back off. It was just that most of the time he chose not to.

Sam took a shower, cursing the low pressure and lukewarm temperature of every god forsaken motel cubicle shower in the entire country. He would have asked Gabe to fix it for him, but despite not knowing exactly what he was annoyed about, he did know he was annoyed with the angel and that was grounds enough to not speak to him (especially when nude). So instead he suffered through yet another shower that hardly did anything to wash the dirt from his skin. 

Sam chose to glare at a patch of mold on the wall, oblong in shape and dark green in color, and decided to curse short people too (as he had to bend down to even wash his hair in the shower, clearly not built with anyone taller than average in mind). Coincidentally, Gabriel was a rather short person, so he got included in the chaos of Sam's muttered cursing. He turned the temperature down, though it really couldn't get much colder than it was already, and tried to think about everything rationally. He had no real reason to be mad at Gabriel for sleeping with someone else - even a lot of someone elses. The two of them were only Friends with Benefits, but without the friends part. But for some reason he was seeing green in more than just the mold on the wall.

He rested his forehead against the putrid tiles, wondering how Dean got "a more profound bond" and he got stuck with an archangel with commitment issues and a tongue too sharp for his own good. He sighed and shut the water off, listening to the drip of the leaky shower head for a moment before stepping out onto the presumably blue tiles (though they hardly looked blue at all anymore). Grabbing a threadbare towel, he dried himself off as best he could manage and simply pulled on a pair of worn grey sweatpants before going back out to see Gabriel. 

Gabriel's throat went dry at the sight of Sam coming out of the bathroom, shirtless and pushing his wet hair off of his face. He couldn't help letting his eyes roam the dips and rises of Sam's body as rivulets of water dripped down. And he certainly couldn't ignore the shape of Sam's soft cock through the thin fabric of his sweatpants; there wasn’t much left to the imagination without boxers. 

It was hard not to notice Gabriel’s blatant ogling and it made Sam’s blood boil. He knew he didn’t want to be a piece of meat for an archangel’s enjoyment (though honestly he still wasn’t sure what he _did_ want to be to Gabriel either). 

"What is this? Am I just a booty call that you like to harass or is there something more here?" Sam grumbled, his annoyance and anger rising by the minute. 

Shrugging, Gabriel looked down at the dirty carpet and tried to count the pairs of feet that had tread on its fibers. The angel’s lack of reply only made Sam angrier. 

"Gabriel, just give me something. Tell me you hate me and just use me for sex. Tell me you'd rather be anywhere but here. Tell me I don't mean a thing to you. I don't care, just - tell me,” Sam began by speaking and ended in shouting, shoulders tensing and face flushing in frustration. 

“I don’t fucking know, Sam. Maybe I do hate you. You’re pretty damn annoying. You might have a big cock, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna fall on my knees for you,” Gabriel practically growled, getting up off the bed and glaring up at him. “You think you’re so amazing with your perfect abs and that _hair_ – well I have feelings, y’know,” Gabriel growled, stalking closer to Sam like a predator about to strike. 

“ _You_ have _feelings_? Cry me a river Mr. ‘I went to an orgy, did you want me to bring home a used condom’-“ Sam spat back, teeth clenched. 

“We didn’t use-“ Gabriel said, raising a finger like he was bringing up something important. 

“That is so fucking beside the point, Gabriel,” Sam interrupted, voice tight. “I don’t want to know about your orgy. At all. So shut up.” 

“Fine,” the angel huffed, crossing his arms. 

“ _That’s_ supposed to make me think you have feelings? Because all it does is paint a picture of a selfish little archangel who only cares about himself, especially when it involves getting off,” Sam yelled, pushing Gabriel back with an open palm. 

“What, do you want me to get down on one knee and profess my undying love for you, kiddo?” he spat, emphasizing the pet name like it was something disgusting. “Want me to wax poetic and get you flowers? Because that’s not going to happen – you knew what you were signing up for when we started fucking. I never promised you any Dad-damned romance, Sam Winchester. That wasn’t part of the deal.” 

“I don’t care about any of that, not really – I just want to know that you give a shit,” Sam said, voice trailing off to hardly more than a whisper. 

Gabriel’s expression softened and he let his arms fall loosely to his sides. He looked up at Sam and sighed quietly. 

“I do care, Sammy. I care a lot.” 

Sam covered up his shock with a scoff that didn’t sound as annoyed as he had intended. 

“Then why do you do this? Why do you tout the fact that you went to an orgy like you deserve a medal for it? Why are you so callous and rude all the fucking time?” Sam asked, voice filled with hurt that he didn’t quite mean to come through. 

Gabe looked at his feet again and didn’t answer for a few moments. He peeked up at Sam again (nearly shy, which surprised Sam) and gave a forced smirk. 

“I know this might be hard to believe but – I’m scared, Sam. I can care about you all I want, but that’s not gonna keep you from getting stabbed by a demon or bitten by a vamp or just growing old and dying like a normal human…” 

“Why does any of that matter to you?” Sam asked quietly. 

"I-" Gabe began, then paused to take an unnecessary breath. "I don't know, Sam. I might – fuck," he stopped entirely for a few beats. "I might love you, okay?” 

Sam's hands clenched into fists by his sides and then loosened once again. However, his long fingers remained curled up towards his palms. Hearing Gabe say it outloud made him really stop to think about it (and admit something to himself that he never planned to) – it wasn’t how he wanted it to happen, but happen it did. 

"I-" Sam began as Gabriel had, unsure of how to respond to such a bald admission. He settled for matching it. "I might love you too." 

Gabriel huffed out a breath, closing his eyes. 

“We’re some sort of fucked up, huh kiddo,” Gabe murmured, opening his eyes again to look up at Sam. “Must be daddy issues or something,” he continued, smirk falling into place like it had never faded. 

“Must be,” Sam laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes then leaning down to kiss Gabriel. “I love you,” he whispered against the angel’s lips. “I love you,” he said again with more conviction, grinning. 

Gabe grabbed Sam’s face in his hands and kissed him hard. “I love you too, you ridiculously tall idiot.” 

Sam laughed quietly, resting his forehead against Gabriel’s. He could either laugh or cry about how ridiculous this was (about how ridiculous his whole life was) and laughter was what spilled out past his lips, thankfully.

“I thought-“ he said through chuckles (that were dangerously close to sobs), “I thought you didn’t feel the same way. Thought this would always just be sex…” 

Gabriel pet Sam’s cheeks and brushed his thumbs over Sam’s cheekbones, kissing him softly and speaking calmly. “I know, kiddo, I know. I’m sorry about all of this – sorry I didn’t say anything earlier.” 

Sam lifted his hands and gently wrapped his fingers around Gabe’s wrists just for something to hold on to and anchor him while he gathered his thoughts. “Not like I said anything either. We could have both done this a lot better,” he said, kissing Gabriel again and lingering for a few moments more than he would usually dare to. 

Gabriel stepped back a little to put some space between them, letting go of Sam’s face. 

“Getting a little too cuddly for me,” he said with a wink, half serious, half kidding. “Maybe some mutual love admission requires some mutual satisfaction if you catch my drift?” he continued, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Celebration sex?” Sam asked, smirking and shaking his head a little (he knew he could never really change Gabe, at least not significantly, so he would take what he could get and slowly work his way towards more). 

“Hit the nail right on the head, Sammy!” Gabriel threw back with a grin, grabbing Sam’s hand and pulling him towards the bed. 

“Maybe we could try something different this time?” Sam requested, pulling Gabe back before he jumped onto the rickety bed in his excitement.

Gabriel perked up even more. “Something kinky? You know you don’t have to ask for kinky, Sam – I’m 100% in favor of kinky,” he said in an excited rush. 

“No. Before you come in your pants just from the thought, I didn’t mean kinky,” Sam chuckled, rubbing the back of his own neck uncomfortably. “Sorta the opposite, actually.” 

“Oh. _Ohhh_ ,” he said louder than necessary. “You want _vanilla_ sex in celebration? Anyone ever tell you that you’re one strange S.O.B.?” 

“Plenty of times, actually. What I meant was – you’re always sorta ‘wham bam thank you Sam’ – I was just hoping for something a little more… intimate,” Sam mumbled, starting to look like he was rethinking his whole idea. 

“ _Intimate_. Hmm. I guess we could do that. A little love makin’ is what you want, kiddo?” Gabriel queried, wiggling his eyebrows and performing a much more subdued version of his usual pelvic thrust to simulate gentler sex. 

Sam blushed, giving a quiet, awkward laugh. “Sure, if you want to put it that way.” 

“You look pretty cute when you blush, Sammy,” Gabriel said softly, closing the gap he had put between them. 

The angel stood on his tiptoes to kiss Sam, taking his time. Rather than the usual sting of teeth nipping his lips in Gabe’s haste to get to the good stuff, Sam felt his tongue swipe across the purse of them. The word _polite_ crossed Sam’s mind at the feeling and a laugh bubbled up in his throat at the thought, parting his lips in invitation and letting the joyful sound pass between them. Gabriel’s arms came around Sam’s shoulders for balance and Sam rested his hands on Gabe’s hips. The taller man moaned softly; an honest-to-goodness makeout session was making him weak in the knees and he was completely okay with it. Gabriel pulled away slowly, but kept so close that they continued to breathe the same air. 

“What do you say we move this to the bed now, Sam? Not sure how much more of this stretching I can take. Or I could just get a stepstool if that suits you better,” Gabriel murmured jokingly, pressing his smile to Sam’s lips as he waited for a response. 

Sam nodded, in a daze, and backed Gabe up to the bed. The angel snapped his fingers and mojoed up the nicest bed Sam had seen in years. 

“Figured we could use something a little classier than usual for the occasion,” Gabe shrugged, pulling Sam down to the mattress with him. 

Sam nodded, kissing across Gabe’s jaw and down his neck. “You know what else you could use? A lot less clothing,” Sam said against Gabe’s skin, lips brushing his collar and making the angel shiver. 

Another snap and Gabriel was blessedly naked, grinning up at Sam with less mischief and more true happiness than the human was used to seeing from him. Sam straightened up and kissed him; he nearly reveled in the feel of such a genuine smile against his lips. 

“Maybe you could lose the sweatpants, Sammy – they’ve seen better days. Not that I’m complaining about how little they leave to my imagination, but I’m trying to run a sophisticated show here and those just aren’t fitting the bill.” 

Sam smirked and rolled his eyes. He got the sweatpants off and tossed them off the bed before crawling up Gabe’s body again and leaning down to kiss him deeply. 

“That better?” Sam questioned, slotting their hips together and grinding down against him. 

“ _Much_ ,” Gabriel shuddered, rolling his hips up to meet Sam’s movements. 

Nipping Gabe’s neck gently, Sam continued moving his hips against the angel’s then pulled back a bit to look at him. 

“Maybe we could do a little something more than just rub against each other like a couple of horny teenagers at bible camp?” he asked, stilling his hips. 

The angel chuckled, panting slightly. “Sure thing, kiddo,” he drawled after he caught his breath, snapping up a tube of lube for Sam and pressing it into his palm. 

“Angel mojo sure is handy for blasphemy, huh,” Sam mused out loud, nudging Gabe’s legs apart. 

Letting his eyes fall closed and spreading his legs for Sam, Gabe gave a lazy sound of assent. The angel smiled when he heard the familiar sound of a cap being unscrewed. Sam slicked his fingers and reached down, teasing Gabe with just a fingertip circling his hole. Gabriel whined, as Sam thought he might.

“C’mon. You’re not gonna break me. Especially not with ‘love making’ – if I was that fragile I’d be in pieces after all the things we’ve done together.” 

Sam leaned down to press his lips to the angel’s and Gabe’s whines got lost in the kiss. Pushing a finger in, Sam continued to kiss him, enjoying the soft sighs that escaped Gabe’s lips every time Sam had to pull back a little for a breath. He drew the prep out for longer than was entirely necessary, mostly to hear Gabe’s complaints turn to breathy whimpers (accompanied by Gabe rocking his hips back against Sam’s fingers as if begging for more without words). 

“Kiddo _please,_ that’s not enough – need more,” Gabriel whined, reaching down to stroke his own cock. 

Sam kissed him again (he didn’t think he’d ever get used to how nice it felt to actually kiss the angel like this, rather than Gabe’s usual ritual of leaving as many hickeys as possible on Sam’s body) and pushed Gabe’s hand away. 

“Uh-uh. Let me.” 

Sam wrapped his long fingers around Gabe’s length and pumped him in time with the fingers inside him. Gabriel moaned. 

“Fuck me – I mean – make love to me or whatever, Sam. Just get that cock in me,” the angel demanded. 

Sam dragged his fingers out, relishing the mewl Gabriel let out at the feeling. He pulled Gabe’s legs up to either side of his waist and lined himself up; lazily slicking his own cock with lube, he pushed in with a measured thrust of his hips. Gabriel made a pleased humming sound, closing his eyes. 

“Blessed be the higher powers that gave you such a huge schlong, Sam Winchester.” 

Sam couldn’t help the blush that dusted his cheeks after Gabe’s comment, but rather than let the shorter man get the better of him he just began to rock his hips in a steady rhythm. Gabriel made another appreciative noise at that. He opened his eyes a little and looked up at Sam, smiling. Sam leaned down and kissed Gabe. 

“Not really used to this whole ‘mouth-kissing during sex’ thing – I was always more of a Pretty Woman type, y’know,” Gabriel murmured against Sam’s lips, slinging his arms around Sam’s shoulders.

Sam didn’t reply. He pushed Gabe’s hips up a little more, thrusting a bit harder. The way Gabe’s eyes rolled back when he closed them again told Sam he had found the right angle. 

“I love you, Gabriel,” Sam said, kissing his way down Gabe’s exposed neck. “I don’t really know why I love such a self-involved asshole, but I love you.” 

“Tell me how you really feel, Winchester,” Gabriel replied, trying to sound hurt, but because of the loud moan that ended the sentiment, just ended up sounding horny.

Sam nuzzled Gabe’s jaw, smiling. He wrapped his hand around Gabe’s length again, stroking him in time with every slap of his hips against Gabe’s ass. The angel’s mouth fell slack and he was surprisingly silent, save for a few soft noises of pleasure. Sam brushed his thumb over the head of Gabe’s cock, smearing the precome over the skin. 

“Fuck,” Gabriel cried out, breaking the silence. 

“That feel good?” Sam whispered, lips brushing the shell of Gabe’s ear and making the angel shiver. 

“Yeah – didn’t think ‘love making’ could feel this good. Maybe we should do it more often,” Gabe joked, but the flush spreading its way down his chest and the fact that he couldn’t contain his own noises hinted at a modicum of seriousness in his words, whether he would admit it or not. 

They carried on in the same manner, nothing too rough or rushed, until Gabe was swearing a blue streak and bucking his hips up into Sam’s grip. He came with a cry of Sam’s name and Sam followed a few thrusts later with his face buried in the crook of Gabe’s neck. 

“Fuck, kiddo,” Gabe panted. 

Sam nodded, pulling out. “Fuck is right,” he smirked, settling down next to Gabe and throwing an arm over his chest. 

Instead of pulling away, Gabe curled closer to Sam, pressing a hesitant kiss to his hair.

“I love you,” he whispered, listening to Sam’s breath even out as he fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

They all got breakfast together the next morning, Dean raising an eyebrow when instead of arguing Sam and Gabe actually shared a kiss between sips of coffee. 

“Are we hunting a cupid or am I just seeing things?” Dean asked, eating his eggs. 

“Shut up, Dean-o. You’re ruining the mood,” Gabe responded, kissing Sam again.

“There shouldn’t be a _mood_ at breakfast,” Dean muttered, but he couldn’t say much else when he noticed Sam’s smile. It was rare (and getting rarer) to see Sam in such a good mood, so he let Gabe’s transgressions slide for the time being. 

After eating, Sam and Dean changed into their fed suits and went to pay Carla a visit. They went to the address Sam had found online and knocked on the unpainted wooden door. A middle-aged woman with dye-red curls opened the door. 

“Can I help you two?” she asked. 

“We were hoping to ask you about your father,” Sam stated, holding up his badge in tandem with Dean. 

“If you’re here to get him on tax evasion or something, you’re out of luck. The guy’s been dead for years – don’t know what the FBI would want with him now.” 

“Concerns about his burial, mostly. The land your father used to own was up for sale last year – it’d be easier for everyone involved if we knew exactly where on the property his body is. So no one disturbs his final resting place,” Dean filled in, doing his best to cover his tracks and make everything sound a bit less fishy. 

“Oh. He’s right by the big wooden coaster. He loved that damn thing, even with all the racket it made. He even had a name for it; Susan, he used to call it. Don’t know why – my father was certainly a strange one,” Carla provided, nostalgia coating her words. 

Dean nodded. “Anything else, ma’am?” 

“Not unless you had any other questions.” 

Dean and Sam put on identical false smiles; Dean shook his head. “That’s all for today. We really appreciate your cooperation, Mrs. Airth,” he said, nudging Sam back to the Impala. 

“That wasn’t as hard as I thought it was gonna be,” Sam commented once they were back in the car. “Most people have a lot more questions when you start asking about dead loved ones.” 

“She was about as out-there as her old man seems to have been, probably made it easier. But it doesn’t matter because we have a body to burn come sundown.” 

They went back to the motel and changed into clothes more suitable for illegally exhuming a body by moonlight. Gabriel lounged on the bed, watching Sam get changed, and provided the occasional appreciative whistle.

“Damn, Sammy. Why do you hide that rocking body under all that flannel? Try a wifebeater or something – show off a little,” Gabe teased, sitting up. 

“You’re an ass,” Sam replied, not looking up from tying his boots. “Are you coming with us?” 

“What, you really think I’d miss all the fun of watching you boys dig six feet under? Of course I’m coming.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

They headed back to the park after sunset. Dean popped the trunk of the Impala and handed Sam a shotgun and a shovel, taking the same provisions for himself. The angels followed them into the woods, Gabriel even offering to hold Sam’s shotgun (not without making it sound dirty, of course). 

“So you heard this Beach guy in the Fun House, Sammy?” Dean asked, as they made their way down the dirt path to the entrance gate. 

“We _hope_ it was him. It was definitely something supernatural.” 

“Ghost clown,” Gabe added helpfully. 

“Ghost clown?” Dean asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just being an ass. Well – he’s always an ass.” 

“You’ve got that right.” 

“Hey – I’m still here y’know,” Gabriel muttered (but he made sure he was loud enough to be heard clearly because what fun was complaining when no one could hear you?). 

“ _Anyways_ ,” Dean said, glaring at Gabriel. “Let’s check out the Fun House, just to make sure we know what we’re up against.”

Sam nodded; they climbed over the turnstiles and headed into the park. Sam led them to the Fun House, looking up at the large sign above them.

“Here we are,” he said, already feeling anxiety curl in the pit of his stomach like a coiled snake. “The Fun House.” 

Sam and Dean leaned their shovels against the outside wall of the building. Gabe went in first, gleeful about being back; Dean and Cas followed one after the other, Dean’s boot falls clumping on the rotting wood while Cas’ steps were as quiet as a cat. Sam swallowed hard before following, not looking forward to the possibility of another encounter with their ghost friend (clown until proven not, in Sam’s mind). 

“How are we gonna find him in here?” Dean asked, looking at himself in one of the mirrors. 

Gabriel gestured for them to follow him and made quick work of navigating the halls, finding the center of the Fun House within minutes. While they were walking there hadn’t been a sound past the broken glass crunching under their feet. The angel looked around, winking at Sam when his eyes skimmed over him. He went to one of the intact mirrors and turned around so his back was to the surface, then pulled his arm forward and crashed his elbow into the unbroken glass. It shattered it with a loud crack that echoed for seconds after. The same hysterical laughter Sam and Gabriel had heard the first time came again once the crystalline ringing stopped. 

“Found him,” Gabriel announced, smirking. 

An apparition appeared before them, reflection stretching and multiplying in the cleverly arranged mirrors around them. Clown he was not, rather an older man in a worn suit, sporting a manic grin. Sam relaxed immediately once he saw what the ghost really was (and wasn’t it fucked up that seeing a ghost actually calmed him down?). 

“You dare come to my park and disturb my final resting place!” the ghost boomed. “This land is sacred.” 

Dean smirked, shooting him full of rocksalt without a pause. The ghost disappeared for the time being. 

“Was it just me or is he the most overdramatic ghost we’ve ever met? You would think a vengeful spirit would just go in for the kill, not wax poetic about a crappy old amusement park. This isn’t fucking Scooby Doo or whatever,” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

Beach appeared again in front of Sam, blowing out the glass in the mirror next to him. Sam covered his face, expecting to get hit. When he didn’t, he peeked up over the fabric of the arm of his jacket. Gabriel had gotten in between him and the flying glass, taking the brunt of the attack. Sam was surprised that the angel had been able to protect him so well with their major height difference, but looking past Gabe into the mirrors around them told him how. Reflected on the surface of them were six glorious wings, shining gold and glittering with shards of glass. He couldn’t see the wings directly on Gabriel though, only in the mirrors. Gabe followed Sam’s line of sight and forced a chuckle when he saw his own wings in the reflections.

“Sorry kiddo, force of habit. They’re awfully good at sheltering,” he said, shaking his wings a little and dislodging some of the glass, wincing. 

Sam watched in slight awe as the glass fell to floor from seemingly nowhere, tinkling when it hit the cement. Dean shot the ghost again, gesturing for the rest of them to follow him out once Beach disappeared. They got out of the Fun House as quickly as they could, Dean in front with Cas right behind him and Gabriel and Sam picking up the rear. Dean picked up his shovel and handed the other to Sam, going to find the grave so they could get rid of the annoying spirit. 

After a few minutes of trudging through the forest, they found the large coaster again, remembering Carla’s tip that Parker was buried near it. Dean looked to Sam and shrugged helplessly – they were going to have to do an awful lot of digging. Cas offered to help, but Dean wouldn’t have it. Gabriel didn’t offer at all, rather perching himself up on the coaster tracks again, watching over Sam and Dean as they shoveled their way towards finishing the case. 

“You _could_ help, y’know,” Sam called up to Gabriel after an hour of aimless digging. 

“I just saved your pretty face from certain death, kiddo, I deserve a break.” 

“But if you helped we’d be done sooner.” 

“What, and miss the chance to check out your perky ass while you dig a grave? Absolutely not.” 

Sam bitchfaced up at him, but kept digging. Gabriel wolfwhistled; Sam threw a rock at him (and the angel laughed, catching it with ease). Cas perched himself next to Gabriel, looking like he would rather be helping, but contenting himself with watching Dean’s muscles bunch and relax under flannel as he dug. 

“I’m bored. I’d rather be having sex right now,” Gabriel commented after watching them for another half hour, floating down from his perch. “The bones are riggghtt here,” he finished with a flourish, jumping on a patch of dirt less than five feet from Sam. 

Dean swore under his breath and went to dig where Gabe had indicated. Sam leaned down and gave the angel a quick kiss before joining Dean. Gabriel’s eyes lit up and he grinned, leaning against one of the wooden posts of the rollercoaster; Castiel joined him, leaning as nonchalantly as he could next to his brother. Dean’s shovel struck wood first, but before they could throw enough dirt off of the coffin to open it they heard some very familiar laughter. 

“Shit,” Dean muttered, realizing they were literally six feet deep without their weapons. 

Parker’s voice boomed through the woods around them, once again over dramatically demanding to know what they were doing on his land. Gabriel grabbed one of the shotguns from next to the grave, shooting the ghost in the chest with rock salt and sending him back to oblivion for the moment. Cas joined him, picking up the other shotgun with less finesse, but holding his own next to Gabriel. 

“Dig faster, Winchesters. He’s not gonna stay gone for long,” Gabriel called down to them. 

They continued to shovel, eventually unearthing the entire coffin and ripping it open to reveal Parker Beach’s bones. The ghost only reappeared once more while they were digging. He was quick, but Gabriel was much quicker. 

“Maybe your angel isn’t so useless after all,” Dean commented when Gabriel let out a celebratory whoop as the ghost of Parker Beach disappeared in a flurry of rock salt again. 

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam replied, halfway between sarcastic and sincere.

Sam dragged himself up out of the hole they made, gripping the dirt and leaves with calloused fingers and hoisting himself out. He helped Dean out, steadying him when he nearly landed face first in the dirt. Dean grabbed the salt and handed Sam the bottle of kerosene, looking over the edge of the grave.

“Alas, poor Parker – fuck you,” Dean muttered as he dumped salt into the grave, Sam following suit with the kerosene once Dean finished. 

Dean looked over at Gabriel who was still poised with the shotgun next to Cas, ready for an ambush. Dean shook his head with a smirk, tossing the angel a book of matches. 

“You do the honors.” 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Why the sudden change of heart, Winchester?” 

“You actually helped this time. And I haven’t seen Sam this at ease in a while. Don’t ruin it, Gabe – just burn the bones so we can get out of here.” 

Gabriel handed Sam the shotgun, walking over to the open grave. 

“See you on the flip side,” he said cheerfully to the bones in the grave, striking all the matches at the same time and tossing them into the hole. 

The bones burst into flames, lighting up the dark forest and casting eerie shadows on the trees surrounding them. An anguished scream floated up with the smoke, dissipating into the air as the spirit was released. They packed up their gear slowly as the flames died out, leaving the shovels out. Gabriel shook his head when Dean and Sam went to go shovel the dirt back into the grave, simply snapping his fingers to fill it in again. The four of them walked back to the car in weary silence, another case closed in the never ending files of the Winchester Brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

“You okay?” Sam asked Gabriel, stripping his muddy clothing off of his body the moment they got inside their shared motel room. 

He headed into the bathroom to clean off, looking back at the angel for an answer. 

“Peachy-keen, kiddo – never been better,” Gabriel replied with a grin. 

“But your wings…”

“Oh those? They’ll be fine,” he continued, but his grin became forced and his shoulders slumped. 

“Can I help?” Sam asked as he washed his hands, scrubbing the dirt from his skin as best he could with the minimal supplies they had to work with. 

“No one’s really seen my wings in millennia, Sam-a-lam – why should I show you?” the angel asked with a condescending tone. 

Sam shrugged, drying his hands then pulling on some clean boxers. If Gabe wasn’t interested in his help he wasn’t about to push it. Gabriel huffed, plopping himself down on the bed. 

“Fine, you’ve convinced me,” he muttered, wings materializing behind him as he settled down. 

Sam nearly rolled his eyes at the dramatics, but he felt like the air was punched out of him when he saw Gabriel’s wings as more than just a reflection. 

“Whoa.” 

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Gabriel said with arrogance, but his cheeks flushed pink. 

Sam sat down behind him with one of the makeshift first-aid kits Dean kept in the trunk and carefully started picking out the glass shards still imbedded between his feathers. He used his fingers where he could and tweezers when the pieces were deeper or too small to grasp. Gabe made an effort to stay quiet, but soft whimpers escaped with every tug of glass out of his flesh. Sam brushed long fingers through Gabriel’s secondary feathers to try to soothe him, smirking at the shiver it drew from the angel. 

“Does that feel good?” 

“Y-yeah,” Gabe murmured, wings visibly relaxing as Sam continued to play with his feathers. 

“They’re beautiful,” Sam commented, carefully cleaning the blood from his wounds (though the blood wasn’t red, instead it was an iridescent blue – he remembered the same thing had occurred with Cas once and wondered if it wasn’t blood, but rather Grace. He didn’t ask.). 

Gabriel yawned; Sam smirked, finishing cleaning him off. “Am I boring you?” 

“Huh? No – just feels nice. Relaxing, y’know? More than I can say for most of my past,” he said quietly, sighing. He stayed silent for a few moments before continuing. “I feel safe with you.” 

Sam kissed the skin between his wings, humming tunelessly. He couldn’t help his smile when Gabe admitted to feeling safe with him – he doubted the angel had felt safe in thousands of years. Gabriel closed his eyes. 

“I can’t protect you, y’know. I’m flesh and blood and more than anything, bone-deep selfishness. I’m only human; you shouldn’t feel safe with me.” 

Gabriel leaned back against him, feathers brushing Sam’s chest as he settled down. 

“I trust you – I trust that I could give you my blade and I wouldn’t wake to you plunging it between my ribs. I trust that I could give you holy oil and you wouldn’t trap me. I trust that I could give you a spell in Enochian that could wipe me from the very face of this universe and you wouldn’t use it. I trust you, Sam Winchester.” 

Sam almost told him that he shouldn’t, that he had done so much wrong in his life and so little good that he wasn’t worth an ounce of trust, but instead he simply kissed Gabe’s temple, nudging him to lay down. He let a small smile grace his lips as he whispered in Gabe’s ear. “Rest.” 

Gabe flopped onto his stomach on the bed, burying his face in the pillows and tucking his wings back. Sam rubbed his back, smiling. 

“Well, Doctor Winchester,” Gabriel mumbled against the pillow as Sam put the first-aid kit away. “You seem to have fixed my wings, but I believe I contracted something much more serious in the process. I think I’ve got a bad case of loving you.” 

Sam laughed and kissed his hair, letting the heaviness of their previous conversation evaporate into the night air to join the cricket chirps and the moonlight. “I think I have a cure for that particular ailment.” 

“Yeah?” Gabriel said, looking up with a sleepy smirk. 

“Mmm, I do,” Sam replied, kissing him. “I think a good case of love in return might help.”

He laid down next to Gabriel, wrapping an arm around the angel. He still wasn’t sure if Gabe actually slept, but when his breathing evened out and he even started to snore, Sam figured he was safe.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing a kissing to Gabe’s hair. 

It felt nice to say in the dark, with no jokes or laughter in response, just soft acceptance and the sound of the highway outside.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sabriel Minibang this year! I finally got to include my love of abandoned amusement parks in a fic.
> 
> For the record, Chippewa Lake Park is a real place and a majority of the information I've included is true (at least according to the internet). If you have any questions about the park feel free to ask me or google it - you'll find some really cool pictures and videos.
> 
> Amazing art: http://ziarenete13x.livejournal.com/45593.html
> 
> Leave a comment or come talk to me on Tumblr (queerbriel)!


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